Reconciling the Past
by Jennifer N
Summary: Trying to salvage a botched rescue mission, old lovers meet again, but looks can be deceiving. When your only ally might be your enemy, where do you turn when the lives of two innocents are at stake? (Sequel to "Mercy.")
1. Part 1

**Title:  Reconciling the Past**

**Authors: Becky (anonyme@lisco.com) and Jennifer N (jennifer_n97@hotmail.com)**

**Distribution: Cover Me, Alias FanFiction List, SD-1 Boards.  Anyone else, please ask first (we'll probably say yes).**

**Feedback: Please?  Pretty please???  And please send it to both of us???**

**Disclaimer: We don't own _Alias or any of the many songs that you will see in this fic.  We do, however, own Zoe, who you saw in "Mercy," as well as Nicola and Mia, whom you will meet shortly._**

**Summary: Trying to salvage a botched rescue mission, old lovers meet again, but looks can be deceiving.  When your only ally might be your enemy, where do you turn when the lives of two innocents are at stake?**

**Rating: R**

**Classification: Drama/Angst**

**Spoilers: anything up to and including "Rendezvous."**

This is a sequel to our fic "Mercy," which you can find at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=948023.  

**A/N:  Yup, we're insane.  g  So here's the sequel to the monstrosity known as "Mercy."  Becky thanks Jen for continuing with the madness (and no, I still won't accept your resignation g).  Jen thanks Becky for putting up with her writer's block and insane schedule.  (And Jen also tries to offer her resignation again, but doubts it will be accepted.  sigh).**

Also, a huge "muchas gracias" to our wonderful betas, Steph, Casey, Karen, and Kara. g

And now, two warnings before we begin—

1.  This will not be posted as quickly as "Mercy" was, due to our busy schedules at this time of year.  Hopefully, we will be able to post faster in several weeks, but for now, you're just going to have to be patient.

2. The beginning of this will probably not make sense.  In fact, it's not supposed to make sense—yet.  Trust us, everything will make sense . . . eventually.  (And Jen shudders to think how many parts it will take to unravel this new monstrosity.  Oh dear . . .)

So without futher ado . . .

**_Part 1_**

He carried all of their earthly possessions in one trip down the stairs, carefully setting the two battered suitcases in the foyer.  The last four months had been perfect, beyond their wildest dreams.  After years of hoping, praying for a child, they were granted two of the most precious girls in the world.  He remembered vividly the day, eight weeks earlier, when they had hugged him for the first time.  They were finally beginning to relax around them; the fear of being taken away was diminishing.  Adoption papers were being drawn up.  Every night he and his wife watched their two angels succumb to sleep, thankful that after years of waiting their dream had been realized.

And now their dreams were being crushed.  Their angels had never been meant for them.  Four months ago they were supposed to be sent to an orphanage, not to their home.  A clerical error—a blessing, in their opinion—had changed that until yesterday, when an internal audit made the county government aware of their mistake.  With one phone call, their world was turned upside down.  No matter that they were being asked to give up their children in the middle of the week, on a sunny Wednesday that should have found the girls at school.  Instead, they were under orders to relinquish custody immediately.

They didn't have the heart to tell the girls where their new home was.

"Now, girls, don't forget to brush your teeth before you go to bed—you did remember your toothbrushes, didn't you?  What about your roller blades?  And your journal?"  He walked into the living room, listening to his wife's last-minute reminders to the girls.  _Their girls.  Receiving nods from both children, the woman held out her arms.  "I'm so sorry things worked out this way.  But I know that your new foster family will love you as much as we have," she whispered as she clung to the two dark-haired girls._

The three separated as the doorbell rang.  "I guess this is it," he murmured as he reluctantly opened the front door.

Thirty minutes later, it was over.  The girls had remained stoic until the end, calmly hugging their parents good-bye one last time before getting in the backseat of the tan sedan.

Their parents were not as restrained as the children, who were now accustomed to these last-minute good-byes.  "I hope they're going to be okay," one girl whispered to the other as the car began to slowly travel down the tree-lined road.

The other girl nodded.  "At least they have each other," she whispered back several minutes later as the Chicago skyline came into view.

The heartbroken couple followed the car with their eyes until it was too far away to see.  "We love you," the woman said one last time, her voice trembling.  Holding onto each other for support, they re-entered their house and sank onto the sofa, stunned.

No longer needing to be strong for their girls, she clung to him, and he to her, their brave façade slipping away as the sobs overtook their bodies.

************

"I wonder where we're going this time," the social worker heard one girl whisper to the other.

The other girl shrugged.  "As long as we're together, I don't care," she said in a low, fierce voice, her green eyes flashing.

Silence engulfed the car as the social worker maneuvered through the busy streets.

"Hey, Nic, think this guy would let us take a side trip to the Hancock building?" the first girl asked in a conspiratorial tone, looking up at the looming edifice.

He glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see Nic's horrified expression.  "I am _not going up to the top of that building.  I don't care __how many times you ask!" she hissed.  "Besides, you don't take side trips on the way to your new foster home.  Don't you know that by now?"_

The first girl grinned and tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear.  "One of these days, not only will you go to the top of the Hancock building, but you'll be brave enough to go bungee jumping with me."

"You're not old enough to bungee jump.  You have to be—"

"Eighteen, I know, blah, blah.  What's seven more years, anyway?  Gives me enough time to convince you I'm right."

"How's that?" Nic asked.  The social worker perked his ears, waiting for the answer.

"Nic, you gotta trust me on this—there's no greater rush than adrenaline."

"Well, Mia, it looks like you're going to need that adrenaline now," her sister said dryly.

"Why?"

Nic pointed outside.  "I think _that's our new home," she said as the car slowly came to a halt._

Both girls groaned.  "Not another one," the social worker heard Mia mutter.  He exited the car and opened the trunk, removing two suitcases.

"Here we are," he announced in a falsely cheerful voice.

"We had to leave them for _this?" Nic mourned to her sister._

Mia grabbed her hand as they slowly trudged up the sidewalk leading to the orphanage's entrance.  "Come on, Nicola.  We can handle this.  At least we're together, right?  And who's more powerful than us?"

************

She peered through the doorway and gazed at her husband.  If the way he was holding the phone was any indication, the news wasn't good.

"What do you mean, we don't know where they've been taken?" he thundered.  She inwardly winced as she heard the hard steel enter his voice.  He had never spoken that way to her, but the sound was enough to give her the shivers.  It surprised her that after thirty years she could still be affected by him.  But then, loving him was her favorite mistake.

"Well, find someone who _can locate them!  Incompetent government officials," he cursed under his breath.  "How do you __lose two people?"_

Her eyes narrowed.  What was he, an idiot?  He of all people should realize how easy it was to "lose" a person.

"Message?" he asked.  He listened for a minute, then nodded.  "Of course.  Yes, I'll pass it on."  He sighed.  "Call the instant you learn anything about their whereabouts."  He removed the phone from his ear.

She watched from her vantage point, evaluating him.  Would this be his breaking point?  Would he be incapable of saving anyone, including himself?  She pushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and reviewed everything she knew about her husband.  Even after she left, she still kept tabs on him and his work, although it was more of a challenge.  She could no longer innocently inquire about his day at work or rummage through his things while he was in the shower.

She missed those days.

"Missing, huh?"

"Yes," her husband replied tersely to the younger gentleman.  "And he wanted me to pass on a message to you.  He needs you to report directly to the Agency when we arrive at LAX."

The younger man stared out the window of the airplane.  "Zoe," he muttered.

Jack Bristow nodded.  "That would be my assumption."  He settled into his seat.

"They'll make it," Eric Weiss muttered.  "They have to."  He turned and faced Jack.  "I know that bitch killed Zoe, but surely she wouldn't kill her own daughter . . . would she?"

Jack's throat tightened as he pondered the question.  Until recently he didn't think his former wife could kill an innocent bystander like Pierson.  But now, having seen her in action . . . "I'm not sure," he answered truthfully.

And that was what scared him the most.  That Laura Bristow—_Irina__ Derevko, he mentally corrected himself—was capable of anything.  She could be anywhere in the world, at this very moment, doing God-knows-what to their daughter._

He didn't realize he should be more worried about what Laura could do to _him._

There was, after all, another six hour flight.


	2. Part 2

A/N: Okay, so three weeks later (or something like that), here's part 2. The very beginning of this you have seen before (the ending of "Mercy"), but we put in here too so we won't be starting mid-scene.  
  
We are now in the midst of retail and school hell, so bear with us for updates on this! Next update, um, might not be this year. Sorry about that. But there's lots more to come--and some of it's even been written already! g

**Part 2**

Vaughn sat back wondering how much longer it would be before they actually got in the air. They'd already been on the ground for the better part of an hour.­ He was about to walk up to the cockpit when the one of the pilots came back.

"Sorry about the delay folks, but the mechanics found a problem with the landing gear.­ They should have it repaired within the hour."

Sydney looked up at him.­ "Thank you."­ She looked back over at Vaughn.­ "Why do you suppose Davenport chose Toronto?"

"I don't know, but I'll be very glad when we get back to L.A."

She nodded as she looked out the window.­ She could see the skyline just across the Bay.­ It was beautiful.­ If only she had time to enjoy it.­ 

She turned away from the window.­ She hoped the new intel that they had was accurate.­ She just wanted Will back, in one piece, safe and sound.­ 

The pilot returned to the cabin.­ "A couple of the mechanics are going to come in and check the hydraulic pressure gage to make sure it is functioning properly, and then we should be able to get underway."

Vaughn got up from his seat and started walking around the cabin.­ If he didn't see the inside of a plane for the next 10 years, it would be too soon.­ 

"Is it okay to come up, Jim?" the mechanic asked.

"Yeah, come on."

Three men entered the plane.­ Vaughn watched as they entered the cockpit.­ Turning back to Sydney, he was about to say something when one of the mechanics, the one with a slight limp, came back.

"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Vaughn.­ Ms. Bristow."

Sydney gripped the arms of her seat as Vaughn moved closer to her.­ "What are you doing here?"

Sark removed his cap, running a hand through his short blond hair.­ "Making sure this plane is mechanically sound.­ But you see, I don't think it is.­ I think you might have to spend the night here."

"What do you want?" Vaughn asked angrily.

"I don't want anything at this point Mr. Vaughn.­ But I do have something you want, Ms. Bristow, or may I call you Sydney?"

"Go to hell," Sydney answered.

Sark cocked his head to the side.­ "Ms. Bristow it is then."­ He looked back towards the cockpit.­ "Would you please bring our friend back here?"

Vaughn moved closer to Sydney, grabbing her hand.­ She looked up at him briefly before glancing back at the men who were now walking towards them.

The men came to a halt beside Sark.­ Sydney looked from one face to the next.­ When her gaze landed on the third man, she couldn't believe her eyes.­ "Will?"

She waited until the older looking man had carefully placed Will in one of the seats before she rushed over to him. ­"Oh my God, Will?"­ She tapped his face lightly as the man moved beside her.

She looked up at him.­ "What have you done to him?"

Sark replied from behind them, "He's been having problems sleeping, so we gave him a pill."

Tears streamed down Sydney's face as she looked back at Will.­ Then she felt the man beside her pick up her hand.­ She looked up at him.­ "What are you doing?"

Vaughn tried to go to Sydney, but the gun Sark now had trained on him held him in place.

"I think this belongs to you," the man answered, speaking for the first time.­ Sydney looked back at him and then down at her hand.­ What she saw there shocked her into silence. 

Slowly, she backed away from him.­ "No...­ No...­ No..."­ She kept repeating until her back was against the side of the plane.

Vaughn started to move towards her only to be stopped by the sound of a gun being cocked.­ "Now, now, Mr. Vaughn.­ I don't want to have to shoot you, but if I have to, I will."

"It's ok," the other man told Sark.­ "Mr. Vaughn here just doesn't understand that I would never do anything to hurt Sydney."

Vaughn looked back over at Sydney, who was clutching her left hand.­ And then he saw it.­ How the hell did they get Sydney's engagement ring?

"Who are you?" Vaughn demanded.

"You know, I feel as if I know you so well, I keep forgetting we've never met.  Allow me to introduce myself."  He stepped forward, pulling a latex mask from his face.  He stood directly in front of Vaughn, holding out his hand.  "My name is Danny Hecht."

Vaughn shook his head.  He had to have heard wrong.  "Who?"

Danny smiled.  "You heard me correctly the first time, Mr. Vaughn."  He turned back towards Sydney, leaving a stunned Vaughn in his wake.  Once he was close enough, he gently picked up her hand, turning it so he could admire the ring he'd placed there moments earlier.

Sydney looked up at him for the first time since he'd removed the mask.  She pulled her hand out of his, reaching up to trace his features with trembling fingers.  "Danny?" she whispered.

He smiled again.  "Yes, Sydney.  It's me."

She stood motionless as he reached out, gently caressing her cheek as he moved closer.  When she didn't turn away from his touch, he drew her to him, embracing her.

She closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek.  She felt so cold, so helpless standing there with Danny's arms wrapped securely around her.  She remembered the last time he'd held her like this, how warm, safe, and loved she'd felt.  Now as he  wiped away the tear that had fallen, she shivered, his touch like ice.

Opening her eyes, she gazed over his shoulder to see Vaughn, his eyes cast downward.  She waited for what seemed an eternity until he finally looked up, their eyes locking.  What she saw there gave her the strength to pull back.

Danny tightened his hold, making it almost painful.  "Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

She pushed against him, trying to make him release her.  "Please, let me go," Sydney pleaded.  

"Sydney, I'm hurt."  Danny loosened his hold slightly without releasing her.  "One might think you weren't happy to see me."

"Oh God," she began, unable, unwilling to utter his name again.  "Please, just let me go," she begged, struggling in earnest now.

"Somehow this isn't how I imagined our reunion, Syd," he replied, pulling her back to him, kissing her hard, and then pushing her away.

Sydney fell back into one of the seats, her surprise evident.  She recovered quickly, anger replacing shock as she stood and took a step towards him.  "Stay away from me," she whispered venomously as the palm of her hand made contact with his face, the crack echoing through the plane.  Moving around him, she walked unsteadily towards Vaughn.

Danny grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her so that she was facing him.  "It might have escaped your notice, Syd, but you aren't the one giving the orders here.  I am."

Sydney glared at him as she wrenched herself free, almost stumbling backwards once she had.  It was then she knew something was wrong.  Reaching out, she gripped the arm of the seat closest to her for support, managing somehow to remain on her feet.  

She glared at Danny as she backed closer to Vaughn.  Pulling the ring from her finger, she threw it across the cabin.  She was surprised to see an angry red band where the ring had been.  "What have you done?" she asked, holding her hand up in front of his face.

He flashed her an evil grin as she leaned back into Vaughn's waiting embrace.  "Nothing permanent, I promise.  We need you to behave yourself for awhile.  I just made sure you would."

She could feel Vaughn wrap his arms tightly around her, but it didn't help.  She turned around so she was facing him.  His worried look did nothing to dispel the terror that had lodged itself in her throat as she slowly lost the feeling in her extremities.  "Vaughn?" she whispered before losing consciousness.

Vaughn slid to the floor, cradling her against him.  Brushing the hair back from her pale face, his only relief came from the steady rise and fall of her chest.  

Sark looked over at Danny.  "My, _that was__ effective.  Maybe we should have used that with him," he stated, indicating Will._

Vaughn looked up at the men who surrounded him, glaring first at Sark then shifting his focus to Danny.  "What. Did. You. Give. Her?"

Danny moved closer, attempting to pull Sydney away from Vaughn.

"Don't touch her," Vaughn ordered, turning Sydney away from Danny's outstretched hands, holding on even tighter.  

Danny straightened himself, staring down at the pair.  "Don't worry, Mr. Vaughn, Sydney will be fine.  Like I said, I'd never do anything to hurt her."

_If this is your idea of not hurting someone, I'd hate to be there when you do, Vaughn thought as he pulled Sydney even closer, his cheek resting on top of her head as he slowly rocked her.  Vaughn lifted his gaze to meet those of their captor's.  "You're supposed to be dead. Why aren't you?"_

Sark and Danny looked at each other.  After a moment's silence, both men began to laugh.  Not a weak, half-hearted chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh.  "That's very good," Danny answered as he sat down.  "He said you had an _interesting sense of humor."_

"He who?"

"Let's just say it's someone we both know," Danny answered as he rested his hands on his knees.  He leaned forward.  "As to your question about why I'm still alive, it's really quite simple.  It was just a matter of a couple of phone calls."

"So who did Sydney find?"

"Is that of any importance now?"

"It might be to his family," Vaughn answered coldly.

"You're assuming he had one," Sark replied.  "Or that they'd care."

Vaughn shook his head in disbelief.  He hoped he was never able to understand how someone could be so cold.  He hoped he'd never become like them.  "What do you want from us?"

"All in due time," Danny replied as he got to his feet.  "All in due time."

"You know they will look for us."

Sark walked over to stand beside Will.  "They can try, but I doubt they'll succeed."  Looking over at Danny, he motioned towards the man half-dozing in the seat.  "Want to give me a hand here?"

Danny nodded.  Once Will was back on his feet, he moved back next to Vaughn.  "We need to leave," he stated.  "Would you like some help with her?"

Vaughn glared at Danny.  Shifting Sydney in his arms, he managed to stand without letting go.  "Where are we going?"

Danny had watched as Vaughn struggled to stand, ready to catch Sydney when she fell out of Vaughn's arms.  When she didn't, he backed off, returning to help Sark with Will.  "We're all going to take a short trip.  I don't think I have to warn you what will happen if you try anything."

Vaughn looked back down at the unconscious woman in his arms.  No, they didn't have to worry about him trying anything.  Not yet.  "Where are we going?" Vaughn asked again.

"Somewhere we won't be disturbed," Sark replied.  "Now if you don't mind, we do need to get going."

Vaughn tightened his grip on Sydney, carefully making his way down the narrow stairs.  Once on the ground, he waited as Sark and Danny helped Will from the plane.  He watched as they led Will to a waiting car.  He didn't move.  Especially when he saw the two men begin to argue.

As suddenly as the argument began, it was over and both men walked back to where Vaughn was standing.  Sark came to a halt next to Vaughn as Danny stood in front of him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to say goodbye to Sydney now, Mr. Vaughn," Danny stated, reaching for her.

Vaughn backed up until he could go no further.  "No."

"David, I think he needs a little incentive."

Sark smiled as he pulled his gun from his jacket.  Cocking it, he aimed it at Sydney.  He moved closer, stopping only when the barrel of the gun rested next to Sydney's temple.

He stared at Sark before shifting his focus to Danny.  "You honestly think I'm going to let you take her?"

"Either you hand her to me or we leave her body behind.  But at this range, we might be leaving more than just _her body here.  The choice is yours, Mr. Vaughn."_

_This isn't happening, he thought as he shifted Sydney slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.  Closing his eyes, Vaughn loosened his hold, allowing Danny to take her._

"Wise decision.  It's one you won't regret," Danny stated as he juggled Sydney, getting a better hold on her.  Turning to Sark, he added, "I'll see you in a bit.  Make sure you take the necessary precautions."

Sark rolled his eyes at his partner.  "You _owe me.  Just remember that."_

A short, evil laugh escaped as Danny turned back to the car.  "Like you'd let me forget," he answered.  Placing Sydney in the back seat of the second car, he closed the door, walked around to the other side and disappeared from view.

Vaughn swallowed hard as he watched the car pull away.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  His brain reasoned that it was the only thing he could do to keep Sydney from getting hurt.  His heart, on the other hand, was screaming something entirely different.

"In the car, Mr. Vaughn.  If you please?"

_Like there was even a choice?  Vaughn pushed himself tiredly away from the plane.  He trudged the few short steps to the car and got in, followed by Sark._

Once the door was closed, Sark tapped on the glass partition.  He was rewarded by the sound of the engine starting .  Leaning back against the seat, he prayed they would make it to the house before Will woke up again.  He just wouldn't be held responsible for his actions if he had to listen to that man sing one more song...

Vaughn stared out the window, lost in his own thoughts.  The sound of Sark's voice brought him back to his nightmarish reality.  "What?" he asked.

"Do you ever pay attention?" Sark asked, annoyed.

"Only when it matters."

"You should probably start then."

Vaughn merely nodded before looking over at Will.  "You were arguing earlier.  What about?"

"_That doesn't matter."_

"Got the short end of the stick did we?" Vaughn asked sarcastically.

Sark didn't think, he only reacted.  Seconds later, Vaughn lay slumped over in the seat, blood seeping from the wound Sark had just inflicted.

The partition slid down as Sark sat back, returning the gun to his holster.  "Was that absolutely necessary?" the driver asked.

"Just shut up and drive!" Sark shouted as his raised the partition.

Davenport simply smiled as he slowed and turn towards the marina.

_tbc_


	3. Part 3

She slowly lay down in the bed, careful not to disturb her husband.  At last he showed signs of a peaceful sleep, she noted as she fought the urge to lean over and kiss him.  Could she help it that even after all these years she found him to be so incredibly sexy?

She watched him sleep for several minutes as the events of the last few days rushed through her mind.  They had been through so much, both together and separately.  Someday soon it would all be over.

Unfortunately, she still wasn't sure which side she was rooting for.

She forced these maudlin thoughts from her mind, focusing on happier times.  Their first date, a blind date that wasn't so blind on her part.  She had been watching him in D.C. for several weeks before a mutual friend arranged their introduction.  It didn't take long to convince him that he was better off with her than without her.

Sometimes she wished she hadn't been so convincing, so enigmatic back then.  Because it was only leading to heartbreak now.  And no matter what happened, she didn't want that for him.  She loved him too much.

She broke herself out of her reverie and glanced at the clock.  If she didn't wake him up soon, he would be in a bad mood the rest of the day, angry that he had slept so late.  Not that he would take it out on her—he never mistreated her in any way, he loved her too much to behave with such cowardice—but still, she didn't want anything to mar their time together.

She gently shook his arm.  "Honey, wake up," she cooed softly.  He didn't budge.  She shook his arm more forcefully this time.  "Sweetie, you've slept long enough.  Time to get up," she said cheerfully.  Moaning, he turned towards her and opened one eye.

"Emily," he said as he wrapped his arm around her and snuggled closer to her.

Emily Sloane smiled at her husband as she rested her head on his chest.

Maybe she would let him sleep for five more minutes.

************

"Could we just take off already?" Weiss muttered.  He impatiently tapped his fingers against the armrest.

Jack placed his cell phone in his pocket.  Sark was responsible for Sydney and Vaughn's disappearance—of that he was certain.  With Khasinau dead, did this mean that his wife—ex-wife—did it mean Derevko was now in charge?

_And if she was in charge, what would she do to her own daughter?_

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry for the delay," the captain apologized over the intercom.  "We're going to be on the ground for at least another twenty minutes.  Feel free to unbuckle your seat belts and move about freely.  Since the door is still open, you may still safely use your cell phones.  I'll let you know when we will be closing the door, and again, I'm sorry for the delay."

The two agents looked at each other.  _Cell phones . . ._

"When was the last time you used your phone?" Jack demanded.

Weiss looked at him, confused.  "Why?"

"Did you use it in Madrid or London?" he pressed.

Weiss shook his head.  "I can't get a signal on that phone overseas."

"Did you use the phone in Newark?"

Weiss tapped his fingers again, trying to remember.  "I don't think so.  After we finally shook off the tail from the airport, Mike and I were only at the safe house for a few minutes before you and I left for Madrid.  Why are you asking this, anyway?"

"Check your messages," Jack told him.

"Why?" Weiss challenged.

"Just _do it!" he exploded._

"Fine, fine, fine," Weiss muttered under his breath.  He retrieved his carry-on and searched through the side pocket.  Removing the phone from the bag, he hit the power button.

A few moments later, he turned the phone around.  "Are you happy?  I have three new voice mails."

"Check them," Jack ordered.

Weiss opened his mouth, then promptly closed it as he began to check his messages.

"First one's from my mom, if you must know," he announced as he half-listened to the message.  He quickly deleted it.

"Second one's from my mom, too.  You should meet her sometime.  I'm sure you'd get along _so well," Weiss said sarcastically.  "She loves to leave me messages, you love to make sure I check them."_

Jack rolled his eyes heavenward.  At times like this he was thankful to have a daughter.

"And the third message is from—hang on a sec."  Weiss removed the phone from his ear.

"What?"

"I'm starting this message over.  I must not have been listening because I swore I heard it say—"  Weiss' eyes grew wide.

"Fucking asshole!" he exploded.  "Damn fucking bastard _asshole!  The __nerve of him!"_

Jack removed the phone from Weiss's hand and replayed the message.

"Message received today at 10:39 a.m.," the mechanical voice said.

"Mr. Weiss, so sorry you missed my call.  Just wanted to let you know that I'm about to catch up with your friends and wondered if you had any messages you would like passed on.  I do hope they behave themselves.  After all, I wouldn't want to give them an injection, would I?"  The man laughed on the message.  "I will try to reach you and Mr. Bristow later.  I must now go revive a certain journalist.  Au revoir."

Weiss looked at Jack with pain-stricken eyes.  "That message—it came from Zoe's cell phone."

Jack nodded grimly.  "Sark has Tippin—and he was on his way to get Sydney and Vaughn."

Weiss blinked.  "My cell—it's on L.A. time.  So if it was left this morning at 10:39 that means it was," he paused, calculating, "1:39 this afternoon Boston time."  He looked at his watch.  "Less than an hour ago."

"I was hoping Vaughn would have tried to reach you on your cell," Jack admitted.

"So much for _that happening."  Weiss stared at the screen of his phone.  "Wait—what about your cell?  Wouldn't Sydney try to call you on it if she could?"_

"There weren't any messages when I turned on the phone."

"What about your house?"

"My house?"

"You _do sleep somewhere besides SD-6, don't you?" Weiss looked at him sharply._

Instead of answering him, Jack pulled out his phone and dialed his home number.  He quickly accessed his voice mail.

"Francie," he said in a low tone.

"What?" Weiss asked, leaning his head forward.

Jack waved him away and took two steps back, listening.  "Francie wants to talk to Sydney about Will.  She says it's an emergency."  He sighed and quickly dialed a series of numbers.

"And the plot thickens," Weiss intoned as Jack glared at him.

"Hello?" Francie said in a small voice.

"Francie, this is Jack Bristow.  I just got your message," he began.  "Is something wrong?"

"Can I talk to Sydney?  It's . . . personal," she said, hoping her roommate was nearby.

"Sydney's lying down right now.  She's had a bit of an upset stomach the last few days—ate something that didn't agree with her.  I'd really rather not wake her, if that's okay with you," Jack lied.

"Oh, I hope she remembered to pack some medicine.  She mentioned the other day she needed to buy some at the pharmacy," Francie worried aloud.

"Well, I'm sure if she needed it you would be more than willing to slip it into her purse for her," Jack said under his breath.  Weiss stared at him as Francie gasped in his ear.

"Um, yeah . . . that.  Um, Mr. Bristow, sir, I am _so sorry about that.  I hope you weren't too offended by the, um, the . . ."_

"The present you gave Sydney?" Jack finished sternly.  Weiss inwardly chuckled, realizing what Jack was referring to.  Poor Francie.

"Yeah.  I mean, yes.  Sir.  Like I was saying—"

"I believe you needed to talk to Sydney?  Could I pass on a message?" Jack interrupted.

Weiss choked back his laughter, coughing instead.  Jack turned and glared at him.

"Well . . ." Francie trailed off.  "I need to talk to her about Will, actually."

"Will?  Your reporter friend?" Jack asked as Weiss headed towards the front of the cabin.

"Yeah.  One of Will's friends from work is here with me right now, and—this is crazy, you're probably not going to believe me.  I mean, I know I didn't believe it when Abby—"

"Francie.  Get to the point," Jack interrupted.

"Will wrote a story that is supposed to be published if he's dead.  And we don't know if he's alive or not.  I haven't heard from him since last weekend, but I think that Sydney said on Sunday morning that she had talked to him, but I'm not really sure now if she said that or not.  And now it's Wednesday and we can't find him anywhere—he hasn't been to work and no one's heard from him—his mail hasn't been picked up the last few days, it was all in the mailbox.  And we just don't know what to think.  What if these SD-whatever people killed him???" Francie paused for oxygen.

"Calm down.  No one's heard from Will since last weekend?"

"No.  Not work or me or Amy or his parents," Francie said tearfully.

"And you said something about a story?"

Francie gulped.  "Yeah.  Abby—she's a writer for the _Register too—anyway, Will gave her a story in a sealed envelope and said it had to be published if he was killed.  And we opened the envelope yesterday."_

"And?" Jack pressed.

"There were good-bye letters," she said softly.  Jack strained to hear her words.  "Inside the envelope was the article . . . and good-bye letters."

"The article, Francie.  What did the _article say?" Jack asked, his voice rising._

"It said . . . hang on."  Papers rustled in the background.  "'Last year one of my good friends, Daniel Hecht, was murdered in his apartment.  There were no suspects in his murder, no clues at all.  The police didn't want to investigate, so I made it my personal mission to find his killer.

"'What I found took me into a world I thought only existed in comic books and movies—somehow I found myself in the world of U.S. intelligence agencies, including a rogue agency called SD-6.'"  Francie paused.  "And then it goes into more detail about this SD-7."

"Six," Jack heard a British voice correct her.

"Oops.  SD—what did you say?  Four?"

"Six!" the other person screamed in frustration.

"Yeah.  SD-6.  Thanks, Abby.  Anyway, it talks about them, but nothing too specific.  Oh, and he says he was kidnapped and told to get off the story.  I can't believe that he was kidnapped and never told me.  I thought he trusted me," Francie finished mournfully.  Jack could hear her sobbing and Abby's feeble attempts at comfort.

"Will is your friend.  I'm sure—I'm sure he did what he did to protect you," Jack said as Weiss gestured to him.

"They're ready to shut the door," Weiss whispered.  "You've gotta get off the phone."

Jack nodded.  "Francie, I need to go check on Sydney—I think I hear her calling me.  One of us will contact you shortly."

"Ok-k-kay," Francie cried.  "Tell her I hope she feels better soon."

"I will.  And Francie?"

"Mmhmmm?"

"Don't tell anyone else about this article."

"But shouldn't I tell—"

"There's no need to worry Will's family at this point.  You and—Abby, was it?—need to wait.  Tell no one.  And it would be best if you two stayed together.  Can she spend the rest of the day with you?"

"Well, she needs to head into work . . . why?"

"Tell her to work from your apartment.  Anything she needs to turn into her editor, do it by e-mail.  Don't leave the apartment until you hear from me," Jack commanded.

Francie remained silent on the other end of the line.  "Francie.  Did you hear me?  You and Abby _must stay inside for the time being.  Is that understood?"_

Jack waited for forty-five slow seconds before he finally heard a response.  

"Okay.  But you promise not to forget about us?  You promise to actually give Syd the message?"

"You'll be hearing from one of us soon.  I promise," he vowed.

"All right.  I'll talk to you or Syd later, Mr. Bristow."

"Good-bye, Francie.  Be careful," he admonished.

"'Bye."

Jack clicked the "off" button on the phone.  "We can leave now," he announced as he returned to his seat and buckled the safety belt.

Weiss shook his head as he watched the pilot scurry back to the front.  _Nothing like an order from Jack Bristow to snap everyone into action.___

"Why Francie and not Sydney?" he blurted out.

Jack turned to Weiss as he sat in the seat next to him.  "What do you mean?"

"You told Francie to be careful.  Why don't you ever say that to Sydney?" Weiss asked.

"Sydney knows how to protect herself.  It's those who don't have her training who can end up—"

"Like Zoe?" Weiss asked, balling his hands into fists.

"I was going to say, 'in trouble.'  But yes.  Like Zoe," Jack said as he faced forward.

"Gentlemen, we have sunny skies for our next leg of the flight.  We should arrive at LAX in approximately six hours," the pilot announced as the plane roared to life.

************

The lithe, raven-haired woman yawned from her hiding place as the plane made its ascent into the air.  _Finally.  It was almost time to put her plan into action.  Although the layover had certainly been interesting._

Jack and Francie.  Innocent Francie, so worried about her friend, and Jack.  Jack had actually appeared to have a heart, concerned for both Francie and his daughter.  Oh, to be tapping _that phone call.  She shook her head.  Even if she had been, her equipment was still in London.   And she knew she wouldn't be returning for her things anytime soon.  Not if her plan worked._

And it _would work._

Step one had been straightforward—deposit Tippin on board Sydney and Agent Vaughn's plane.  This had been done easily—almost too easily, she conceded as she recalled Jack's conversation with Weiss.  That bastard kid at Gatwick thought he could double-cross her . . . she smirked.  He could easily be terminated from his job.

Step two would happen within the next six hours.  She had contemplated this scenario so many times, never knowing which setting she would finally choose.  Flying the friendly skies wasn't her first choice, but there were far more undesirable alternatives.  And it _did leave her with a captive audience . . ._

She stood up, stretching her long legs, and grinned.  Step two couldn't happen soon enough.

It was definitely time for some husband and wife bonding.

_tbc___


	4. Part 4

Special thanks to Karen, Steph, Jude, and Siryn for reading this and giving us feedback!  We appreciate it!

His head was throbbing; a slow, steady, rhythmic pain that was impossible to ignore.  Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes, shutting them quickly when the pain intensified as the light blinded him.

Moaning quietly, he reached up to the source of the pain, surprised to find gauze and tape covering the place where the butt of Sark's gun had crashed against his skull.  As his fingers carefully felt around the bandage, he felt his hand being pulled away, felt it being cradled between two smaller ones.

Shielding his eyes with his other hand, Vaughn slowly opened them.  "Syd?" he whispered, hoping she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

A tear slid down her cheek as she leaned forward.  "God, I didn't think you were..."

He cut her off as he drew her to him, his lips crashing against hers, possessing them.  He pulled back a moment later, the pain causing him to fall back against the cushion.

"Vaughn?" Syd asked, her concern evident as situated herself next to him on the couch.

"You're here."  He struggled to sit up only to be pushed back down.  He grabbed her hand as she started to sit back.  "You're really here," he whispered thankfully.  Looking up at her, he noticed she was still rather pale.  "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"I think so," Sydney replied, nodding.  "When I woke up, I felt a little sluggish, but it's not as bad now."

"You're sure?"

"Vaughn, I'll be fine."  She lightly touched the gauze on his head.  "What about you?"

"Me?"

"How...  What happened?"

Vaughn closed his eyes.  How could he tell her _what had happened without telling her __why it had happened._

"Vaughn?  What is it?  What's wrong?" Sydney asked nervously.

Eyes still closed, he squeezed her hand, blindly pulling her down to him.  As she settled her head on his chest, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her there.  "I didn't want to let you go."

"I don't understand.  What do you mean 'you didn't want to let me go'?"

He took a deep breath while his fingers lightly stroked her hair.  "After you passed out, he said we had to leave.  He helped Sark with Will, but he made sure we were off the plane first."

"I still..."

"Let me finish.  Please," he interrupted, finally opening his eyes.  Unable to meet her gaze, he looked at the ceiling.  "There were two cars.  They helped Will to one.  And then after a small argument, they came back to where I was standing by the plane.  That's when he... When Danny..."

"When Danny what?"

"He tried to take you away from me.  At first, I wouldn't let him."

_At first?__  The words echoed in her mind.  __At first...__  Sydney started to pull away only to find herself being held tighter.  Even with not knowing what he was about to say, just the fact he wouldn't let her break contact reassured her.  _

She placed her hand softly against his cheek and waited until he finally looked at her.  "Tell me."

He nodded slightly.  "Not knowing what he'd given you, I wasn't about to leave you alone with him, but I wasn't given a choice.  When I refused, Danny told Sark that I needed to be persuaded.  He pulled out a gun and placed it against your temple.  He just smiled and cocked the gun."

Vaughn stopped momentarily, his eyes pleading with her for forgiveness.  "I knew he wouldn't think twice about shooting you so I did the only thing I could.  I let him take you."

He paused again, continuing before she could say anything.  "I watched as he carried you to the other car and there was nothing I could do.  After the car you were in was out of sight, Sark forced me into the second one.  He didn't seem to be to pleased about being there and I said something about it."  He smiled ruefully.  "Next time, I'll try to remember to keep my comments to myself."

Sydney combed her fingers through his hair.  "Vaughn, you saved my life."

"How can you say that?" he asked angrily, pushing her away.  Sliding back a bit, he propped himself up on the arm of the sofa.

She was pretty good in the beating-yourself-up department, so she knew what he was doing.  She also knew how to end it.  "If what you said about Sark was true, I would be dead now if you hadn't done what Danny wanted."  She scooted a bit closer, placing her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.  "Nothing happened to me.  I'm here.  With you.  I'm okay now.  But an hour ago when I woke up..."

"What?"

"When I woke up and you weren't there with me, I was so scared.  I didn't know what was going on, where I was, where _you were.  The last thing I remembered was Danny, but I wasn't sure if it was real or some horrible nightmare.   The one thing I knew was that I had to find out.  I started looking around and then I found you."_

"Found me?  You mean they didn't bring you here?"

Sydney looked away, unable to meet Vaughn's gaze.  "I woke up in a bedroom down the hall.  I got up and I discovered the door wasn't locked.  I wasn't sure what was going on, but I knew I needed to find you.  The problem was, I wasn't sure if you were even here."

Vaughn carefully propped himself up against the arm rest before reaching out and linking his hand with Sydney's.  "So you came in here and found me."

Sydney nodded, looking away.  "When I came in and saw you lying here, I wasn't sure if you were even alive.  I don't know how long I stood there just staring at the blood on your face.  And then I thought I saw you move so I came over and..."  She stopped for second.  "I'm so sorry."

Vaughn was confused, and he didn't think it had anything to do with the knot on his head.  "Syd, this isn't your fault."

She shook her head.  "No, that's not it.  It's just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just that _now I understand."_

"Syd, what are you talking about?  _What do you understand?"_

"What you said in Paris.  When we were at the hotel after you found me in the club.  Vaughn, if anything would have happened to you, I honestly don't know what I'd do."

He watched as a tear slid down her face, followed by another, and then another.  Sitting up slowly, he leaned forward and gathered her into his embrace.  "Ssshhh.  It's okay.  I'm here.  I'm not going anywhere.  I promise, you're not going to lose me." 

After a moment, Sydney slowly pulled away from Vaughn.  She reached over and lightly traced the edge of the makeshift bandage on his forehead.  "Will this ever end, or am I just destined to hurt those I love?" she whispered sadly.

Vaughn stilled her hand, clutching it in his own.  "Syd, this is not your fault.  This," he began, reaching up and pointing to the bump on his head, "is my fault.  I kept taunting Sark.  I knew I was in no position to do it, but I couldn't help it."  He looked her straight in the eyes.  "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She stood up quickly, walking across the room.  She wished she could believe him, but she knew this time he was wrong.  It was her fault and she didn't know how to make it better.  She doubted she'd be able to even if she did.  

Turning her attention to the bookcase, she let her hand run across the dark, highly polished wood, stopping occasionally to finger a knickknack here and there.

Something on the top shelf caught her eye.  It wasn't that the piece was out of place; far from it.  It just seemed odd that something that romantic could be found here.  Reaching up so she could take a closer look, a smaller item caused her to freeze.  

_This can't be, she thought as she reached over and slid it to the edge.  Lifting it carefully from the shelf, she stood it on the fine point at the bottom.  Turning it around, she knew what she would find on the back even before she saw it.  "Oh God..."_

Vaughn had closed his eyes for a moment, but opened them when he heard her gasp.  "Syd?"

Sydney pulled the piece from the shelf, her hand trembling.  She had wondered what had happened to it all those years ago...                  

She looked at Vaughn, too dazed to speak.  Walking back to the couch, she cradled the item as if it were the most precious thing in the world.  Sydney sat down, sandwiching her find between her hands, still shocked by her discovery.

"Sydney?  What is it?"

"It's...  It's..."

Vaughn loosened her grip and looked at what she held in her palm.  He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find, but the small, apparently homemade, heart-shaped ornament wasn't it.  He started to pick it up by the fraying satin cord that ran through a small hole at the top when she pulled it away, clutching it in her hand, holding it close to her chest.  

"I can't believe it's here."

"What's here?"

"The first year after..."  She stopped, trying to compose herself.  

"Syd, just take your time."

Sydney dropped her arms, letting them rest on her legs.  She opened her hand, revealing the small heart ornament again.  "The first Christmas after we thought she had died, I looked everywhere for this.  I even refused to help decorate the tree until Dad found it."

"What was so special about this?"

"I gave this to her for mother's day.  We made them at school, but I made a mistake and I ended up with this little hole at the top.  I wanted to redo it, but if I had, it wouldn't have been ready in time, so I just let it go and hoped she'd like it, even with the flaw.  When I brought it home, I showed it to Dad and he suggested putting this satin cord through it and making it an ornament."

Sydney stopped for a moment as she handed the heart to Vaughn.  "I was so worried she wouldn't like it that I just left it on the table with her card and I hid around the corner where she couldn't see me.  When she and Dad came in for breakfast, she saw it lying there.  I kept peering around the corner so I'm sure she saw me standing there, but she pretended she didn't.  She opened it and she just smiled.  She took it out and showed it to Dad and then she said that she wished she knew where I was so she could thank me for her beautiful gift."

Vaughn sat quietly, listening to Sydney, trying to reconcile this image of a loving, caring mother with the cold-blooded, ruthless killer he knew Irina Derevko to be.  "What did you do?"

"I poked my head around the corner again and when she asked me to come into the room, I did.  Once I was standing next to her, she just gave me this big hug and told me that she loved it and that from then on, it would always be the first ornament we'd put on the tree at Christmas."

"That last Christmas before she left, she kept her word.  It was the first ornament we put on, and it was the last that came off.  So the following year when Dad couldn't find it, I told him that it wouldn't be Christmas without it because if it was on the tree, I knew that Mom would be with us.  He looked all over for it.  When he couldn't find it, I ran into my room and I wouldn't come out.  He came to the door and tried to get me to help him, but I wouldn't.  I told him that it wouldn't be the same and that I didn't even want the stupid tree anyway."

Sydney swiped at the tears that had started falling again.  She held out her hand and Vaughn placed the heart back in her palm.  She closed her fingers around it.  "Dad tried to get me to come out; I know he was trying to make that first Christmas after she died special, but I wouldn't budge.  The next morning when I came out of my room for breakfast, the tree was gone, all the decorations had been put away and Dad was on his way out of town on a trip.  He didn't get home until December 27th.  After that, there was never any talk of decorating a tree.  For us, Christmas was just another day without Mom."

Vaughn pulled her to him as her sobs began in earnest.  "Ssshhh, it's okay."

Even though she knew the answer, she couldn't help ask, "How could she do that to us, Vaughn?  How can someone be that cold?"

"Sydney," he began, stopping as her name left his lips.  _How could he explain something he didn't, could never, understand?  "I don't know," he finished quietly._

The honesty of his reply helped calm her.  It was odd, Sydney thought, but knowing that he couldn't comprehend her mother's actions reassured her.  She scooted closer, tightening her embrace.  "Thank you."

"What?"

She leaned back slightly, but kept her arms locked around him.  As he wiped away a few stray tears, she leaned her head into his palm.  "I thanked you."  She watched his reaction, deciding that confusion looked good on him.

"What for?"

She shifted forward.  When her lips were only a breath away from his, she answered.  "For being you."

************

Downstairs, three men huddled around the small monitor.  Davenport was the first to move away.  "See what I mean about those two?"

Sark turned his back to the screen.  "Unfortunately, I found out in London."

Danny turned off the monitor.  Both men quieted when they saw his expression.  "Go check on Will.  And be ready to bring him in when I tell you," he ordered.

Sark stood, dropping the pen he'd been toying with on the table.  "Please just let him remain unconscious until later," he muttered as he stalked out of the room.

Danny started to leave, only to be stopped by Davenport.  "Where are you going?"

He pushed Davenport's hand away as he opened the door.  "I think it's time I welcomed our guests.  Don't you?"

_tbc_


	5. Part 5

He drew away from her slowly as he tried to catch his breath.  He wanted more.  But then with her, he always did.  His fingers tangled in her hair as he looked at her.  That one glance told him that she wanted exactly the same.

He pulled her back down, his thumb tracing her swollen lips.  Straining upward, he placed a gentle kiss on them as she tightened her arms around his neck.  When she began kissing a trail along his jaw to his ear, he realized he should try and stop her.  This wasn't the time or the place.  But at the moment, he was beginning not to care.

She had half the buttons on his shirt undone before common sense finally won out.  "Syd," he croaked, pushing her away.

Sydney knew what he was going to say, but she needed to reassure herself that he was there, that he was real, and there was only one way she could be really certain.  She pushed his arms back down.  "Yes?" she replied, lifting her head for just a moment.  She simply smiled at him as she slid the ribbon from the ornament down around her right wrist, allowing it to dangle there before she pulled the shirt open and resumed her assault.

He closed his eyes.  He didn't have to worry about Danny or Sark killing him.  Sydney would see to that.  He took a deep breath.  "Syd, no."

Reclaiming his lips, she silenced his protest.

_Come on, Mike.  You can do this...  __In a minute,he thought as Sydney's fingers began working on the button of his jeans.  "No," he stated, a little louder than was really necessary._

She froze at his tone.  Slowly, she pulled back and sat up.  "Vaughn?"

He sat up, dragging her towards him as he scooted back on the couch so his back rested against the arm.  "Syd, we can't.  Not here.  Not now."

She closed her eyes as she pulled away from his embrace.  Sydney turned so that her back was to him, her head down.  Staring at the floor, she  answered, "I'm sorry.  I wasn't thinking.  I'm sorry..."

When she tried to move off the couch, he moved more quickly than he even thought possible.  It didn't matter that his head felt like it was going to explode, he wasn't going to allow her to run away from him.  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back onto the couch, forcing her to turn back and face him.  "Don't!"

"Don't what?"

"Don't turn away from me.  Damn it, Syd!  Don't act like I don't want this, that I don't want you, because I do.  But right now, we have to figure out how we're going to get out of here.  But believe me, when this is over, and it will be over, the first thing I'm going to do is take you someplace where we can be alone.  Sloane and everyone else be damned."

Despite herself, she smiled.  "You promise?"

"Yes," he assured her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

She shifted around slightly, pushing him back down until he was lying flat on the cushions.  Keeping her right hand on his shoulder, Sydney slowly trailed the fingers of her left hand down Vaughn's chest.  "You know, I'm not quite sure I believe you."

Vaughn stared up at her, wondering if the drug Danny had given her earlier had some weird sort of side effect.  "Syd?  What do you mean, you don't believe me?"

When her hand finally reached his jeans again, she ran her fingers lightly across the top, teasing his skin.  "I mean that you didn't sound very convincing.  That's all.  I think maybe you should convince me."

Vaughn was mesmerized by the movement of her fingers against his skin.  Watching her, feeling her fingers gliding over his skin was driving him mad.  It was too much.  She was trying to kill him.  That was all there was to it.  He reached down, his hand covering hers.  "Syd," he groaned.

She pulled her hand from beneath his, grasping it and placing back on the couch.  Leaning forward slightly, she placed a kiss above his heart as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans.  "Yes?"

He couldn't move.  He barely remembered to breathe.  He closed his eyes in a silent prayer.  "Sydney..." he sighed.

Sydney let her hand dip a little further down.  "Yes, Vaughn."

His eyes snapped open as he reached for her, pulling her up so that she was lying on top of him.  He dragged her head down, crushing her lips with his own.  

He smiled up at her before reversing their positions so that his body covered hers.  He lazily dragged one hand down her side until he reached the hem of her shirt.  Leaning down, he captured her lips again, nipping at them lightly as he ran his fingers back up her ribs.  

As he began tracing the outline of her bra, he pulled back, grinning wickedly at her.  "And what do you think now?"

She placed her hand along his cheek, her thumb lightly caressing the stubble she found there.  She smiled, her dimples flashing briefly before her look became serious.  "You mean it, right?"

He leaned closer.  "Sydney, I do.  I promise, when this is over we will find a way to make this work."

********

He stood in the doorway, watching as they leaned in, their lips almost touching.  Knowing he didn't want to see anything more, he decided to make his presence known.

Taking a step forward, he began clapping.  "You really shouldn't make promises that you might not be able to keep, Mr. Vaughn.  And Sydney, my how times have changed.  I never knew you to be that demanding."

They both turned towards the noise; the voice, neither of them having heard the door open.  Vaughn pulled his hand out from under Sydney's shirt, pushing himself up so Sydney could sit up as he did the same while he rebuttoned his shirt.  Pulling her to his side, he glared at the man standing in the doorway.  "You again?"

Danny entered the room, closing the door behind him.  He walked slowly towards the couch.  "I would have thought you'd have learned your lesson after what happened earlier, Mr. Vaughn, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

Vaughn watched as Danny came to stand before them.  "What do you want now?" he asked, ignoring Danny's previous comment.

Danny didn't say anything.  He just leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from Sydney's face, letting his hand cup her jaw, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek.

Vaughn knew they were being tested, knew that Danny was trying to find their breaking point.  What Danny didn't know is that he'd already passed it the moment he'd entered the room.  He'd felt Sydney tense the minute he'd approached.  When he'd actually touched her, Vaughn heard her breath catch.  

He reached down for her hand, trying to reassure her that things would be alright.  As he wrapped his hand around hers, he could feel something wet against his palm.  Lifting his hand slightly, he was surprised to see blood dotting his palm.  Lunging forward, Vaughn batted Danny's hand away viciously.  "Get away from her," he growled as he pried Sydney's hand open. 

"Oh God, Syd.  What did you do?" he whispered, cradling her hand in his own.  He gently pulled the ribbon of her wrist, slowly picking small pieces of the shattered ornament from her hand.  He'd forgotten she'd even been holding it.  

After removing all the fragments, he reached for the gauze Sydney had left on the table and began wrapping it carefully around her hand.  

Danny grabbed the roll from Vaughn's hand.  "I'll do this," he stated as he took the gauze off Sydney's hand so he could look at the wounds.

"I told you to stay away from her," Vaughn snarled angrily.

"Listen, you bloody fool.  I _am_ a doctor.  There may be shards of that thing imbedded in her hand.  Wrapping it like this without being certain will just drive them further down.  And let's not forget the possibility of infection.  We wouldn't want that now, would we?"  

He didn't wait for Vaughn's answer.  He just stood up, carefully placing Sydney's hand palm up on her knee.  "I'll be right back."

Vaughn sat there as Danny left the room.  A moment later he was back with a small bag.  While Danny resumed his place on the coffee table, Vaughn wrapped his arm protectively around her.  

She hadn't said one word since Danny had entered the room.  Looking at her face, he noticed the color that had been in her cheeks moments before was now gone.  She sat there like a statue; her only movement, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. 

"Damn that woman and her stupid souvenirs," Danny muttered.  He glanced at Vaughn, shaking his head before reaching back into his bag. 

Vaughn glanced towards the bookcase where Sydney had found the heart.  His gaze had almost reached the top shelf when he heard Danny mutter something to himself.  Looking back, he asked, "What is it?"

"There are little pieces of that damned thing imbedded in her palm.  I have to take them out.  You need to hold her still while I give her a shot to numb the area."

"You are _not_ giving her a shot."  No way in hell was he giving her a shot.

Danny just shook his head.  "For as much as you seem to care about what's best for Sydney, Mr. Vaughn, you certainly have a funny way of showing it."

"And you think that my allowing you to inject her with God-knows-what, is in her best interest?"

"You can read the bottle, if you'd like.  I promise, it's nothing more than lidocaine."

"And I should just trust you, is that what you're saying?"

"No.  You shouldn't," Danny stated, staring directly at Vaughn.  "But right now, I don't see that you have much of a choice."

"Vaughn, it's okay."

Both men turned at the sound of her voice.  Vaughn stared at her, certain that he hadn't heard her correctly.  "What?"

Sydney looked up at Vaughn.  "Just let him do it."

"Are you sure?"

Sydney didn't say anything, she just gripped the hand that he'd wrapped around her waist.  "Yes."

Vaughn watched as Danny prepared the hypodermic.  He wished there were some other way to do this, but he knew there wasn't.  He felt Sydney flinch as Danny pressed the needle into her wrist.  

Danny waited a couple of minutes for the drug to take effect.  To make sure it had, he ordered Sydney to turn her head.  When she'd done that, he began poking her hand with a pin.  Satisfied that her hand was numb, he began removing the tiny pieces of clay.

In all, it had taken him less than five minutes to complete the task.  He sat back after he'd cleaned and bandaged her hand.  As he began cleaning up the mess, he looked first at Sydney and then at Vaughn.  "I don't think I need to tell you that trying to escape is pointless, but I will anyway.  We are on an island.  Before you could get to a boat, we would be there first."

"Where's Will?"

"You really don't need to worry about Will, Sydney."

She clutched Vaughn's hand tightly.  "Why?  What have you done to him?"

"What have _I_ done?"  He leaned forward, grabbing her chin roughly for a second before Vaughn pushed him back.  Danny laughed.  "Seems to me, Syd, that Will wouldn't be here if it weren't for you and your father."

Sydney glared at Danny.  "Where is he?"

Danny said nothing.  He just smiled.  Standing up, he walked over to the door.  Sticking his head into the hall, he called out to Sark.  "Would you please bring our other guest in now, David?"

"Now, while we wait for Mr. Sark to bring your friend in, let me explain how this will work."  Looking at Sydney, he continued, "By now, the CIA knows that you are both missing.  Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, I'll have David call your father and he will relay our demands for your release."

Vaughn pulled Sydney a little closer.  "Why don't you just call him yourself.  Or do you always have someone else do your dirty work for you?"

Sydney squeezed Vaughn's hand, trying silently to stop him from baiting Danny.  When she saw he was about to speak again, she spoke first.  "What do you want?"

Danny glared at Vaughn for a moment before turning his attention to Sydney.  "Just what was stolen from us.  Nothing more," he stated calmly, getting up and moving to a chair across from them.  Leaning back he propped his feet on the table, studying Sydney and Vaughn.  He knew it would be an interesting few days.  "It will just be interesting to see if Jack can manage to get the page from wherever SD-6 is keeping it and getting the liquid from the vault at the CIA."

Sydney and Vaughn looked at each other.  Before either of them had a chance to question Danny about what he meant, Sark entered the room dragging an unconscious Will behind him.  Sydney was already on her feet and moving towards Will before Sark had even dropped him in a chair.

Kneeling beside the chair, Sydney placed her hand along Will's cheek, alarmed at how cold and pale he was.  A tear slid down her cheek as her anger began to take hold.  She moved closer, placing a light kiss on his forehead, silently promising that she wouldn't let him be hurt again.

She rested her forehead against his for a moment, gathering her strength.  Then she turned to face Danny.  "Why?"

Danny turned in his chair to face her.  "Why what?"

"Why did you do this to him?  He never did anything to you.  He was your friend."

Danny stood up, walking towards her.  He circled her slowly, studying her, watching how she braced herself, prepared herself for the attack.  It had also not escaped his notice that Vaughn was now on the edge of the couch, ready to come to her aid if necessary.  

Stopping before her, he waited until she looked at him before he answered her question.  "He was never my _friend Sydney."  Placing a hand on her shoulder, he continued.  "He was just someone I tolerated."  He leaned forward, a cold smile settling across his countenance.  He pulled her closer, whispering, "Just like you."  _

_tbc_


	6. Part 6

SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!

Bet you thought we forgot about this fic, didn't you?

Now, there are a few disclaimers and a warning or two that need to be issued before we go any further.  But first off, a reminder.  This story is still set at the end of season 1 and is AU after Rendezvous, so nothing that has happened in season 2 is relevant here. 

That said, we have our first disclaimer.  There is a part of this that you will be reading that was written back at the end of October, beginning of November.  Needless to say, the events in Double Agent were a bit of a surprise when we opened this back up. So even though this is going to seem like more than a coincidence, that's all it is.

Second disclaimer. If you are new to this story, you _really_ need to read Mercy first.  (The link is on the front page of this story.)

Third disclaimer. We don't own the song that is referenced in this part.  Even if we did, I doubt either of us would admit it willingly.

OK so now for the warnings—

Warning #1—This is not the nice Danny who proposed to Sydney by singing in the commons.  Our Danny is evil.  And somehow, we don't think we've reached the depths of his evil yet. 

Warning #2—If you don't remember a couple of the characters you see in this chapter, go back to Part 1.  And they are here now, in the present, not the future.

WARNING #3—TAKE THIS ONE SERIOUSLY FOLKS!  DO NOT BE EATING OR DRINKING ANYTHING WHILE READING THIS PART.  WE WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR DAMAGE TO MONITORS, KEYBOARDS, OR YOUR DESK IF YOU FAIL TO HEED THIS WARNING!

As always, thanks to our wonderful betas, especially for the quick turnaround.

**_Part 6_******

"You wanted to see me, sir?" the agent asked as he rapped on the open door.

Devlin stood and waved him in.  "Close the door behind you," he instructed.  He waited until they were both seated before continuing.

"I want to commend you for your outstanding investigative work this week.  Without you, Mr. Davenport would still be double-crossing us.  Thanks to your persistence and hard work, we realize he is the enemy and are taking steps to locate him."

"Thank you very much sir.  I—"

"You will be rewarded, of course, for your discovery," Devlin interrupted.  "And not just in your title here at the Agency."  He slid a large manila file folder across the desk.

The agent carefully picked it up and opened it, surveying its contents.  "A new op?"

"This one is in progress.  Davenport and I were in charge of it, and with the discovery of his betrayal, I think it would be wise if someone else stepped in and led this one."

"Are you sure it should be me?" he asked, hoping to appear humble.

"I wouldn't have brought you in here if I didn't think you were competent," Devlin pointed out.  "This is a highly sensitive case, one that only a select few know about."  He gestured to the open folder.  "There's no turning back now that you've seen the intel."

He nodded and cleared his throat.  "So, let's see, this involves . . . Agents Weiss, Vaughn, and Bristow.  Which Bristow?"

"Both of them."

"Really?  I didn't think they worked together."

"They don't," Devlin said dryly.  "Which is why two of them are missing."

"Only two?  Let me guess--Vaughn and Ms. Bristow, right?"

Devlin nodded, impressed.  "I fear that Davenport is meeting them somewhere and they will willingly follow him wherever he wants to go, not knowing who he really is.  It is your job to track them down and debrief Weiss and Jack when they arrive back in L.A."

"I'll meet with them in my office as soon as they both arrive," he promised as he glanced at his watch.  

"No."

"Sir?"

"Not here.  A meeting has already been arranged .  You and I will both meet with them at the warehouse once Weiss and Jack have landed.

He nodded his agreement, realizing that it would have been foolish to meet in his office, especially if the case was as sensitive as he was being led to believe.  "Is that all for now?"

"Yes.  I'll have my secretary deliver the rest of the intel on this op to you immediately."  Devlin stood and escorted the younger agent to the door.

"Thank you for this opportunity," he said with a grin on his face.

"You earned it.  Good work, Agent Haladki."

**********

Sydney stood there, stunned.  When Danny started to move away, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.  "What did you say?"

He brushed her hand away much as he would brush away a fly.  "I tolerated you Sydney.  Why is that so hard for you to believe?  I mean isn't that what your father has done all these years?"

Vaughn stood up, starting for Danny, but one look from Sydney made him freeze where he stood.

"You leave my father out of this."  She shook her head, trying to reign in her anger.  It didn't work.  "You _tolerated _me?" she stated, her voice wavering, rising.

"Yes," Danny answered, taking another step away from her.

Vaughn watched as, for the first time since Danny had entered the room, Sydney defended herself against one of his attacks.

"You son-of-a-bitch!  You TOLERATED me?  How dare you?" she screamed at him.

"How dare I?  Really, Sydney.  Can't you come up with something better than that?" he taunted, walking back to his chair.

Suddenly, he felt himself being spun around, her fist making contact with his jaw.  He staggered back a step before recovering as she lunged for him again.  This time he blocked the punch, managing to grab both her arms, pinning them to her sides.  "You stupid little bitch!  You have to know this is only going to make things worse for all of you."

Vaughn had had enough.  Walking towards them, he didn't notice Sark still standing in the corner.  He also didn't notice the gun in his hand.  Breaking Danny's hold on Sydney's arms, he stepped between them, pushing Danny away from her.  "Leave her alone."

Danny took one step back and started laughing.  "Really, Mr. Vaughn, I think Sydney is more than capable of defending herself."  He took one step forward, looking over Vaughn's shoulder to where Sydney stood.  "Isn't that sweet, Syd.  Your lover is trying to protect you.  Guess there _is a first time for everything."_

Vaughn lunged forward, pushing Danny towards the wall.  As he was about to hit the wall, Danny ducked to the side and ended up forcing Vaughn into the wall instead.  "Not much of a _guardian angel now are you," he stated maliciously._

Sydney grabbed Danny's shoulder.  She pulled him back, forcing him to let go of Vaughn.  "And who are you to judge?  Apparently, you never gave a damn.  At least Vaughn does."

"Does he really?" Danny asked.  "You could have fooled me."

"He already told me about the choice you forced him to make earlier," Sydney answered back.

Danny pulled her to him roughly.  Holding her head still, he whispered something to her and then pushed her back, waiting for her reaction.  It didn't take long.

She flew at him, her fist connecting with his abdomen.  _This is going to hurt like hell later,_ she thought as she pulled her arm back for another punch.  As her fist connected with Danny's ribs, she gasped, feeling something pierce her neck.  

"Sydney!" Vaughn shouted, pushing Danny out of his way.

Stunned, Sydney lifted her hand to her neck, removing a small object.  She stared at the dart as she sank to the ground, Sark's laughter echoing in her ears as everything went black.

Vaughn slowly leaned down, picking the dart up from where it lay next to Sydney's hand on the carpet.  He closed his eyes as he clutched it in his fist.  A moment later, he angrily threw it to the opposite side of the room before leaning back down and gently picking Sydney up.

Danny stood back and laughed.  "Now, now, Mr. Vaughn.  No need to get upset.  I promise, Sydney will be fine.  Isn't that right, David?"

"Yes.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to attend to."

Danny nodded, watching as Sark left the room.  "I can assure you, she _will be fine."_

"You keep saying that, but somehow, your promises don't mean much to me," he replied as he carefully laid Sydney back down.  

Danny chuckled to himself as he walked over to the chair that sat just opposite of where Vaughn stood guard.  "You should believe me though."

"Why?" he asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch.  Looking down at Sydney, he ran his fingers gently through her hair before placing his hand protectively on her shoulder.  

"Because if something _unfortunate_ were to happen to Sleeping Beauty there, she wouldn't be of much use to us, now would she?"

Vaughn just stared at the man seated across from him.  How anyone could speak of Sydney with that amount of contempt was beyond his comprehension.  Unconsciously, he tightened his grip, wanting to protect her from whatever was to come.

Danny watched Vaughn's reaction and smiled.  Settling back in the chair, he asked, "Tell me, Mr. Vaughn, does the CIA approve of your relationship with my fiancée?"

"I assume you're referring to Sydney."

"Well, she _is_ the only fiancée I've ever had."

"She's my agent, my responsibility.  That's all," Vaughn lied.

"So, if for instance I'd given this drug to your friend, I believe his name is Eric, you're telling me that would have been holding him in your arms, pleading with him to wake up as well?"

Vaughn smiled insincerely at Danny.  "You never know.  He is my best friend."

"Good to know.  Because, for some strange reason, I thought the CIA and organizations like it, didn't allow fraternization between agents.  After what happened in London, I guess I was wrong."

Vaughn's expression froze.  _Did he really know what had happened, or was he just guessing.  And if he did know, how?  They had swept the room for bugs without finding anything.  "What are you talking about?  What happened in London."_

"Oh come now, Mr. Vaughn.  I'd think you would have learned after receiving the photos from Paris, that we have ways of finding out information."  Danny leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers laced together supporting his chin.  "I must admit, I was surprised that you two weren't a little more careful, especially given what Francie slipped in Syd's purse."

Vaughn opened his mouth to deny what Danny had just implied, but closed it without uttering a word.  _How the hell did he know?_

Danny answered the unspoken question.  "I was, quite frankly, disappointed that none of you thought to check the VCR after it arrived."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, I really didn't believe Sark's modification to the damned thing would work.  You can imagine my surprise when I saw you and Sydney undressing each other."  Focusing on Sydney, he quietly added, "You know, I'd forgotten how little it actually took to satisfy her.  Then again, it might have been the fact that she had gone without for so long."

Danny stopped for a moment, his gaze lifting just enough to see the color rising in Vaughn's face.  He smirked.  "Oh, wait a moment.  I forgot about that little dalliance with Noah a couple of months back."  At the sound of Vaughn's sharp intake of breath, Danny continued.  "I'll have to admit.  _That_ surprised me.  I didn't think she had it in her to just fall back into bed with a former lover.  Especially after everything you'd done to help clear her in the eyes of the DSR.  Bet you didn't see that coming either, did you?"

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Vaughn hissed.

"I'll take that as a no, shall I?"  Danny sat back once more, his hands resting on the arms of the chair.  "You want to know something else that surprised me?"

Vaughn knew he was in a no win situation.  No matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't shut the bastard up.  If anything, his silence might just make his response worse.  "What?" he finally replied through gritted teeth.

"For all I saw, and keep in mind, the feed was a bit _weak at times, I just don't understand why women seem to think frenchmen make better lovers.  I know I wasn't impressed.  But then again," he continued quickly, "I'm not Sydney.  Although...  No, never mind," he stated, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand._

"Although what?"

"Your father was American, wasn't he?" Danny nodded thoughtfully.  "Yes, that must be it."

Vaughn closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm.  What had happened between them in London was no one's business but his and Sydney's.  He wouldn't allow anything this bastard said cheapen it.  Taking a deep breath, he began to slowly go over a poem in his head that he'd had to memorize while he was in college, trying to take his mind off all that Danny was saying.

"You know, maybe I just missed something.  I mean I really wasn't paying attention.  Come to think of it, I don't think I _ever paid that much attention when __I was with Sydney.  Sex with her was always __so boring."_

Danny looked at Vaughn, noting the closed eyes, watching as his lips moved.  _Nice try, Mr.Vaughn, but it won't work,  he thought as an evil grin overtook his face._

"You know it still amazes me that she didn't notice how bored I was.  But then again, she told me after the first time we had sex that she hadn't been with many men before we started going out, which I'm sure had something to do with her father.  He probably scared most of them off before they even _thought_ of kissing her."  Danny laughed, leaning forward.  Reaching out, he tapped Vaughn's knee, getting his attention.  "Do you know she actually _apologized_ for not being good?"  He laughed again, watching as Vaughn's jaw tightened.

Danny sat back.  "You have no idea how easy it was to convince her that she was everything I'd ever wanted and that I thought it was sweet that she didn't have more experience.  I still have no idea _how I managed to keep a straight face on that one, although that was one of the easier lies to tell."_

After a brief pause, Danny continued to taunt Vaughn.  "Do you want to know what the first thing was I did once I'd been "killed"?"

Vaughn stared angrily at his tormentor.  It was time to turn the tables.  "No I wouldn't.  What I would like to know is how you managed to escape being killed." 

"It is a long story."

Turning and lifting Sydney, he sat down on the couch.  Grabbing one of the throw pillows, he placed it on his leg before gently lowering her back down.  Looking at Danny, he smiled.  "I think we have time."

"Yes, you do, Mr. Vaughn.  Jesus, that sounds so bloody formal.  Do you mind if I call you Mike?  After all, you will be our guest for a few days at the very least and I'd hate to keep referring to you as Mr. So And So."

"Only my friends call me Mike. And since you aren't one of them, I'd rather you didn't.  But this isn't about what I want now, is it?"

Danny cocked his head to one side.  "No, it isn't."

"And besides, I don't really think you have any intention of letting us go.  So, since we have all this time, why don't you tell me how you managed to escape Shepard's bullet, you miserable shit."

A slow smile crept across Danny's face.  "And he said you had a tendency to be a little, what was the word he used?"  He thought for a second before the word came to him.  "Rash.  Yes, I believe that was the term.  Rash with a tendency to react emotionally."

"Who?"

"You'll see."  With a wave of his hand, Danny dismissed the question.  "Now then, I think you wanted to know why I'm still alive, right?"

"Something like that."

"It really was quite simple.  Irina had it planned..."

"Irina?  Irina Derevko?" Vaughn asked, stunned by the revelation.

"Yes."

"Sydney's mother?"

"Yes, yes.  Sydney's mother.  Jack's wife.  The woman who killed your father.  Irina."

"Sydney's mother did this to her?"

"I think I've already established that.  Jesus!" Danny shouted as his hand slapped the arm of the chair.  "Why do you have such a hard time believing that the woman who killed your father would think twice about setting up her own daughter?"

Ignoring Vaughn's angry stare, Danny continued.  "She knew about Sydney being recruited into SD-6.  For five years, she waited and watched.  Then she sent me to California.  After I arrived, it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time.  And I was.  Always."

"So you just kept running into Syd until..."

"...Until I finally asked her out.  At first, she turned me down, which seemed logical after Irina told me that Noah had just left town, abandoning Sydney without one word of explanation.  So I waited and then tried again because that was what was expected of me.  And in case you're wondering, I'm VERY good at following orders.  Finally, she gave in and we went on a date."

"And then you entered into a relationship with her."

"For her, it was a relationship.  For me, it was the longest damned assignment I'd ever been given."

"I'll be sure to pity you later," Vaughn replied sarcastically.

"You'd do better to worry about yourself.  Or if not yourself, you might want to worry about them," he answered back, pointing at first to Sydney and then to Will.

Vaughn ignored the implied threat.  Sighing tiredly, he glanced at Sydney before turning his attention back to Danny.  "You know, as interesting, and it is interesting, as this trip down memory lane is, why don't we just cut to the chase.  How come you weren't killed that night."

"Why do you seem to think this was such a difficult operation?"

"I never said I did, I'm just curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity and the cat, don't you?" Danny asked.

"Yes, but then cats also have nine lives," Vaughn countered.

"Good point, but since you met Sydney, how many of those nine do you suppose you've used up?  And for that matter, how many does she have left?"

"What's wrong, Mr. Hecht?  Why is it, every time I ask about that night, you see to change the subject?  What is it you don't want me to know?"

"Some things are just as they seem, Mr. Vaughn.  That night was nothing special.  And had I known how little it would take to get Syd to tell me about her double life, I can assure you I would have done it much sooner."

"You know, that is something else I've always wondered about.  What did you say to her that made her feel she had to tell you about what she did?"

"You really are full of questions today."

"And you seem to be avoiding the answers.  Again, I have to wonder why."

"You want answers.  Fine.  I'll answer the last one first.  Syd has always had a soft spot where children are concerned.  One afternoon, I casually mentioned how one day we'd have children.  And that's when she told me."

Vaughn's hand clenched into a fist.  He tried to remain calm, but after hearing how Danny had manipulated Sydney into telling him information he'd already known, he felt sick.  "So you used the promise of children to force her to tell you.  You really are a piece of work."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment.  Now then to answer your first question.  After I informed Khasinau that Sydney had told me about working for the "CIA", he arranged for my double to come to back to L.A.  You see, occasionally I had to go back to London to get briefed on what was going on.  Since Sydney thought I was just a med student, it wasn't likely that I would be able to go back home once every month or so.  That is when they came up with a double." 

"You just let someone walk in and take your place, even at the hospital?"

"Why not?  Khasinau and Irina made sure the man they chose had medical training.  I didn't see a problem with that.  Besides, who was I to question them?"

"And what about Sydney?"

"What about her?"

"You really don't give a damn, do you?"

"Unlike you, Mr. Vaughn, I don't make my assignments personal."  

Vaughn sat there, trying to digest the information he'd been given.  _How could anyone, including Irina Derevko, be that cruel to their own flesh and blood?  As he continued to sit there, one question was foremost in his mind.  "What if Sydney had become pregnant?"_

Danny looked over, surprised by the question.  "What?"

Vaughn looked up at the man across from him.  "What would you have done if Sydney would have become pregnant?"

"I honestly don't know what would have happened, but I'm sure the situation, had it come about, would have been dealt with before it went too far."

He stared, certain his mouth was gaping, at the man opposite him.  "You would have let them..."

Before Vaughn could finish the sentence, a low, pained, moan sounded from across the room.  Danny twisted in the chair, turning until he had a better view of Will.

Danny watched as Will slowly tried to sit, still obviously under the effects of the drug Irina had given him.  And then he heard it.  Softly at first, growing louder by the second.

"No.  No, no, no, NO!  GOD DAMN IT SARK!  GET IN HERE!" Danny screamed.

Vaughn watched as Sark ran into the room, only to run out again when he realized what was going on.

"Damn it!  Get back here!" Danny shouted as he ran after his wayward partner.

Starting to laugh, Vaughn quickly shut up when he heard what was causing the strange reaction from their captors.  _Oh dear God..._  

He remembered Sydney telling him about the karaoke disaster one afternoon when they'd met at the warehouse.  He'd laughed at the time, certain that she'd exaggerated Will's lack of singing ability.  She hadn't.

"_I love you.  You love me.  We're a happy family..."_

Michael Vaughn tried leaning the side of his head against the back of the couch and smashing a pillow to the other side to drown out the horrible noise, but to no avail.  Will Tippin just kept getting louder and louder and more off key with each note.

"God, would you SHUT UP!" Vaughn yelled over the din as Will managed to stand, walking unevenly towards where Vaughn sat.

"_With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you..._"

Vaughn stared at Will, certain that he couldn't possibly have seen what he had just seen.  Even in his drugged state, there was no way Will, or any other grown man, would loudly kiss a pillow.  It just wasn't possible.  And then Vaughn knew it was because Will did it again.  And again.  And again.

He had started moving forward off the couch, carefully trying not to disturb Sydney any more than necessary.  He was just laying her back down when he felt himself being embraced.  Tightly.

_"Won't you say you love me too?" Will sang into Vaughn's ear._

Vaughn couldn't move, too shocked by the fact that Will was hugging him.  Suddenly, he felt Will start to sway back and forth.  Fearing that Will was about to fall flat on his ass, Vaughn tried turning around, only to find himself being squeezed tighter than before as Will continued with his serenade.

_"I love you, you love me, we're best friends like friends should be.  With a great big hug," at which point Will squeezed Vaughn hard, __"And a kiss from me to you..."_

He had to be imagining all of this.  Will Tippin had not just hugged him, nor had he just planted a disgustingly wet kiss on his cheek.  _It wasn't real.  It's not real.  It's just some way screwed up nightmare, Vaughn kept telling himself._

Danny returned to the room, a syringe in his hand, just as Will started a second round of the song.  Leaning against the door, he watched Vaughn trying to extricate himself without resorting to hurting the man who was hugging him.  Clearing his throat, he watched, amused, as Vaughn finally broke free.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to interrupt."

"What the hell did you give him?" Vaughn asked as he led Will back over to the other couch, wishing desperately for a pair of earplugs to block the noise.  

"Actually, I'm not sure what he was given this last time.  After Irina killed Alex, she took off with Will.  She stuck him on a plane that she assumed was yours.  Unfortunately for her, it was the one David and I used.  When we found him, he said he'd taken something that "Sydney" had given him.

"We are not going through this again, Will," Danny muttered as he pushed the needle into Will's arm.  

"Hey Doc!" Will stated enthusiastically as his head swiveled up to look at the man giving him a shot.  "Oh hey, you're not the same doctor."  Will's brow furrowed as something important tried to work its way into his muddled mind.  "What ya doing?" 

"I'm giving you something that will help you relax."  

"Okay."  Will looked across the room, spotting Vaughn for the first time.  "Hey is he here for questioning too?" he asked as he tried to stand.

Danny reached out and caught him as he stumbled forward.  "We can talk about that later but right now, why don't you just sit back down there and relax for a little bit."

Will looked up and that funny feeling came back.  The guy seemed familiar, but he just couldn't think why.  "Okay."

Danny watched as the drug began to take effect.  Within moments, Will was unconscious once again.  Danny smiled as he turned back to face Vaughn.  "I'm afraid I have to leave you for awhile.  Someone should be bringing some food in for you soon.  I'll be back later.  I have something to show you."

************

"Nic!  Nic!  NIC!!!"

"What?" Nicola called out from their new bedroom.

"I need you—_now_!"

Rolling her green eyes, she sat up on the bed and closed her journal, carefully placing it underneath the mattress.

"What'd you do this time?" she yelled as she walked down the dark hallway.  Nicola paused, surveying her surroundings.  "Mia, where _are_ you?"

"Bathroom," came the muffled answer.

Nicola continued down the hallway, stopping in front of the only closed door with light peering underneath it.  She hesitated, then knocked.  "Are you in here?"

"Could you just get in here already?" her sister asked impatiently.

Sighing, Nicola pushed the door open and entered the bathroom.  "Mia?"

"Over here," Mia waved her in the steamy room.

"I was wondering where you wandered off to.  I've already written in my journal and found its new hiding place and—"  She stared at her sister and screamed.

"You like?"  Mia twirled around, her hair bouncing.

"It's—it's—you look like—" Nicola sputtered.

"Yes?"

"Bozo the Clown," she answered truthfully.

"Isn't it great?  Just like Bo—Bozo the Clown?  What?" Mia quickly turned around and used a towel to wipe off the mirror.  "Oh my God!  I _do_ look like a clown!" she wailed.

"So that _wasn't_ the look you were going for?" Nicola asked.

"Of course not!  The box said my hair would be auburn—see the picture?"  Mia grabbed the empty box and held it up.

Nicola glanced at the picture and then focused on her sister, thinking.  "The woman on the box is beautiful," she conceded.  "But you still look like Bozo," she finished, giggling.

Mia sighed.  "Go ahead and laugh," she said.  Her face brightened.  "Hey, this might actually be better."

"Huh?"

"Well, I thought I'd dye my hair to see if these stupid people would even notice that we no longer looked like the same person.  And if they can't notice that a brunette now has bright red hair . . . " she trailed off.  "We might actually get the chance to break out of this place."

"Break out?"  Nicola looked at her dubiously.  "Seriously?"

"Why not?  Between the two of us we should be able to take on anyone," Mia said confidently.  Before Nicola could contradict her, she added, "Come on, help me get rid of the evidence."

The two girls quickly trashed the remnants of Mia's dye job before returning to their new bedroom.

"Mia, you're not honestly going to try to run away, are you?"

"Nic, you've gotta stop worrying so much—I think you're getting wrinkles."  She stopped and peered at Nicola's forehead.  "See?  Right there.  Twelve years old and wrinkles already."  Mia shook her head sadly.

"I have those wrinkles because of _you," Nicola shot back._

"I keep you on your toes."

"No, you keep me on the run.  Remember when we were six and you gave us that 'dangerous mission?'"

Mia grinned at the memory.  "Hey, crossing that busy intersection seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Late at night without Mom or Dad?"

"You didn't have to come with me, you know," Mia reminded her.

"_Someone_ has to try to keep you out of trouble.  And besides, Mia, we're eleven, not twelve."

"Almost twelve, twelve, same difference."  Mia shrugged.  "You know, if you want . . ."  She walked over to her open suitcase and dug around.

"I thought you said you'd unpacked everything," Nicola accused.

"Could you just relax already?  I see a new wrinkle forming."  Nicola stuck out her tongue in response.  "Anyway, if you're interested, we could try this one out on you."

Nicola grabbed the box from her sister's outstretched hand.  "Mia, I already _have brown hair."_

"But you have _dark_ brown hair—this one's golden brown.  See the picture on the front?  I think that color would look really pretty on you."

Nicola shrugged.  "Isn't that what you thought about the auburn hair dye?" she pointed out.

"Just think, Nic—we could be totally different people by our birthday," Mia enthused, changing the subject.

"I don't _want_ to be a different person; I just want to stop moving around so much," Nicola said with a sigh.  "I want things back the way they used to be."  Tears filled her eyes.

"Me too," Mia admitted.  She sat down on the bed beside Nicola.  "I miss them so much."

"Almost three years," Nicola muttered, wrapping her arm around Mia's shoulder.

"Sometimes I dream about them.  They're alive and they're driving us to school or watching a movie with us."  Mia wiped a tear from her face.  "And then I wake up and I remember that they're dead."

"I think I'm forgetting what they sounded like," Nicola confessed.  "Their voices . . . they're starting to blur."

Mia nodded.  "Me too.  But there are certain things that they said over and over, things that I can remember a little better."

"Yeah.  Like 'Stop that, Mia!'" Nicola teased, smiling through her tears.

"Or 'put that book away and get some sleep, Nic,'" Mia retorted, giggling.

The two sat in silence, their arms wrapped around each other, as children could be heard entering the orphanage after their day at school.

"Do you remember what Dad used to say?"  Nicola asked abruptly.

"About what?"

"That if anything ever happened to them, we would be safe."

Mia snorted.  "_All parents say stuff like that to their kids.  It's required."_

"But Mom—there was something she used to say . . ." Nicola trailed off.  "Don't you remember?"

"Not really.  What did she say?"

"Just that we would always be taken care of and protected.  Oh—and to always stay together."

"Isn't that what Dad said too?" Mia pointed out.

"But it was different, I know it was.  It was the _way she said it, like she _knew_ someone who would take care of us."_

"Like a fairy godmother?"

"No, silly.  Not a fairy godmother.  But there is someone out there who is going to look after us.  I'm sure of it."


End file.
